An Education of Sorts
by Imadra Blue
Summary: Anakin isn't entirely sure what to make of Obi-Wan. During his first Padawan's haircut, Anakin decides to educate Obi-Wan on what he's supposed to do now that he's been charged with Anakin's care and feeding. Gen.


**Disclaimer:** Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No money is made and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** TPM missing moment. Takes place after Qui-Gon's funeral and before the victory parade.

--

Anakin wouldn't say Obi-Wan was crying, exactly. Obi-Wan's face was wet, but Anakin hadn't seen Obi-Wan cry at all. Tears leaked out of his large, blue-gray eyes, but it wasn't the same as crying. Crying was something Anakin thought someone would do on purpose. Whatever Obi-Wan was doing, it wasn't on purpose.

Anakin didn't point it out. It seemed rude. Obi-Wan had said they needed to let go of attachment, to not mourn or miss Qui-Gon, and instead rejoice that he was now one with the Force. Anakin didn't have to be Force-sensitive to tell Obi-Wan didn't mean that. It sounded like something the little green Jedi Master, Yoda, would say. Anakin missed Qui-Gon dearly, but he suspected no one missed Qui-Gon as much as Obi-Wan.

It was hot that day on Naboo. The Neimoidians had destroyed the climate controls in the Palace during their occupation -- after all, they were amphibians and didn't really need an air conditioner. That morning Captain Panaka had told them that it would take a couple of days to repair the damage and had apologized for the heat.

Anakin was glad for the heat. Naboo was normally too cold for his tastes. Obi-Wan was sweating a lot, though. He had a strange smell. It wasn't like Qui-Gon's or any of the other sweaty men Anakin had smelled on Tatooine. He smelled like a man, but he also smelled of an exotic aftershave Anakin didn't recognize. He wondered if it had come out of that little bottle Captain Panaka had given Obi-Wan the day before. Captain Panaka and Obi-Wan got along very well, and Anakin wondered if it was because they had the same job now. Panaka was supposed to take care of Padmé, and Obi-Wan was now supposed to take care of Anakin.

Anakin thought of Padmé with a frown. She'd hardly spoken to him since the Neimoidians had been defeated; she was far too busy. She had, however, spoken to Obi-Wan. Like an equal speaking to another. It wasn't fair that she spoke to Obi-Wan like that, when Obi-Wan didn't really seem to care how much attention Padmé paid him. Anakin had overheard her telling Obi-Wan that there was to be a victory parade tomorrow. Anakin wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go. It felt wrong to celebrate something that had cost a man's life -- especially a man like Qui-Gon. In any case, a parade was pointless without his mother there to smile at Anakin.

"I miss my mother," said Anakin as Obi-Wan sat down next to him with a pair of clippers in his hand. Obi-Wan's hands were naturally much bigger than Anakin's, but they seemed so small and delicate compared to Qui-Gon's huge hands.

"You'll see her again someday," murmured Obi-Wan. He had a lovely voice. Anakin had asked Obi-Wan to sing to him last night, like his mother used to, but Obi-Wan had given him a rather perplexed look and told Anakin to get into his bed by way of answer. It wasn't exactly a "no." Anakin was quickly learning Obi-Wan never answered anything directly, at least not on the first try. "Trust in the Force to take care of her. You have to let your attachments go."

"Like you let Master Qui-Gon go?"

Obi-Wan's hands paused over Anakin's head. They shook for a moment, and then he suddenly cut a lock of Anakin's hair. _Snip._ Strands of golden blond hair fell to the floor. "Yes. Something like that," said Obi-Wan.

"Why are you cutting my hair, Master Obi-Wan?" asked Anakin. Obi-Wan snipped at it again, sending more of Anakin's hair tumbling to the floor with careful snips of his clippers.

"So you'll look like all the other human Padawan Learners. I'll be giving you your Padawan's braid today."

Anakin stared at the long Padawan's braid that trailed from in front of Obi-Wan's right ear. "Like yours?"

"Yes. I have to cut mine off today. Master Yoda conferred the level of Jedi Knight on me yesterday."

"Why do you have to cut it?"

"Because --" Obi-Wan's voice faltered. "-- Master Qui-Gon isn't here to do it for me."

Obi-Wan's face was wetter than ever. It was only wet when he was alone with Anakin. When Obi-Wan was out of the large room they'd been given to stay in the Naboo palace, or around Panaka, Padmé, or any of the Jedi, he'd wipe his face dry and kept it dry. It made Anakin feel quite peculiar to be the only one Obi-Wan let see his tears.

"Can I do it?" Anakin's neck felt ticklish from all the hair falling on it.

"You want to cut my braid?" There was something in Obi-Wan's voice that made him sound no older than Anakin when he asked that question.

"Yes."

Obi-Wan looked away and sheared more of Anakin's hair off. "All right."

Anakin scratched at his neck, staring at Obi-Wan's braid. He wondered if his braid would ever grow that long. Obi-Wan must have sensed Anakin was itchy, because he paused and blew softly on Anakin's neck. It had the dual effect of making Anakin not itch and shiver at the same time. He rather liked Obi-Wan cutting his hair and blowing on his neck; it gave him the most pleasant tingly sensations.

Anakin switched sides at Obi-Wan's orders, staring at the young man's arms as he reached over Anakin to cut more of his hair. It was hot enough that Obi-Wan wore a sleeveless undertunic and a rather thin pair of trousers. Both clung to his body as he sweat in the heat. Even the open window in their room did nothing to help; there was no breeze that day. The room itself, as opulent and beautiful as the rest of the palace, appeared to be melting in the stifling heat, much like Obi-Wan himself.

Anakin continued to study Obi-Wan from the corner of his eyes as Obi-Wan worked over his hair. It was strange to think that this man -- a man who probably didn't like him and didn't trust him -- was going to be his Master now. They would spend years in each other's company. Anakin couldn't help but think of Obi-Wan as small, even though he really wasn't. It was just that he couldn't help but compare Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon. It made him miss Qui-Gon all over again, for Anakin had wanted nothing more than for Qui-Gon Jinn to be his Master.

Anakin admired Obi-Wan's arms as they moved in front of his eyes. They were solid, if more compact than most of the other Jedi men Anakin had met. Obi-Wan's arms were more pale than rest of him, probably because he wore long-sleeved tunics most of the time. Obi-Wan was already pretty pale by Anakin's standards. His skin was smooth and looked as soft as Padmé's, even if he was a man. Anakin didn't dare touch him to find out, at least not at the moment; Obi-Wan had been upset when Anakin had tried to climb onto his lap yesterday.

Anakin wasn't the only one who watched Obi-Wan. Padmé certainly stared at him a lot, even dropping her eyes and smiling when he was around -- so did most of her handmaidens. Anakin wished Padmé would stare at him like that when he was older. He hoped he looked like Obi-Wan then, since Obi-Wan was something girls liked to look at. Anakin reflected Obi-Wan was nice for boys to look at, too, since Anakin didn't mind looking at him.

Obi-Wan finished with Anakin's hair, except for a strand he left by Anakin's right ear. He started to braid it, but Anakin shifted in his seat. "My neck itches again, sir -- I mean, Master."

Obi-Wan gave him a look, but blew on his neck again so the hair flew off his sensitive skin. Anakin shivered in delight; the tingly sensation ran all down his back at the touch of Obi-Wan's breath on his skin.

"It's still itchy," he lied when Obi-Wan stopped. Obi-Wan sighed and blew on Anakin's neck three more times at Anakin's insistence before he wised up.

"It couldn't possibly still be itchy," said Obi-Wan, sounding snappish. He ran a finger over Anakin's neck, which made Anakin shiver again. "There's no hair left. You're imagining things."

Anakin fell silent and scratched at his neck for show, but Obi-Wan was having none of it anymore. He turned back to Anakin's burgeoning Padawan's braid, his mouth set in a thin line. At least his face wasn't as wet now. Since Obi-Wan was no longer blowing or touching his neck, Anakin settled for the feel of the back of Obi-Wan's fingers as they brushed against his cheek. That felt nice, too.

"There," said Obi-Wan when he was done. He tied a small band around the bottom, making it tight. "Go look."

Anakin hopped off the little stool he'd been sitting on and ran to the 'fresher. The large mirror hanging over the sink showed him what he looked like. Anakin almost didn't recognize himself. He touched his Padawan's braid awkwardly and then fingered his shorn hair. It felt more prickly than before and didn't look as blond. Anakin rubbed his nose, wishing he could show his mother.

When he came out, a small maintenance droid was sweeping up his hair. Obi-Wan sat and watched it, not stirring until Anakin stood in front of him.

"Do I look handsome?" asked Anakin. His mother had always told him he looked handsome after he got a haircut. He liked to hear it.

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin, looking helpless. Anakin had seen him look perfectly comfortable in the middle of a battle with a Sith Lord, yet the simplest questions baffled him. "What?" asked Obi-Wan in a weak voice.

Anakin's lips tugged downwards. This wasn't going to work out very well if Obi-Wan didn't even know what he was supposed to say. If he was going to be taking care of Anakin, he needed to learn how to do his job. Anakin decided to teach him. "You're supposed to tell me I'm handsome," he said in a serious voice, for this was serious business. He'd relied on his mother to feel good, but now it was Obi-Wan's job. "See, I got a haircut. I changed. Now you tell me I'm handsome, so I know I still look good."

Obi-Wan was now looking at Anakin as though he'd sprouted a third arm from his forehead. "Why do you need me to tell you? Can't you figure that out for yourself?" Obi-Wan was apparently a slow learner.

"Because that's what you're _supposed_ to say, sir -- Master. It's what my mother would tell me."

"I'm not your mother." Obi-Wan's voice was sharp.

Anakin frowned, stung a bit. He already knew Obi-Wan wasn't his mother. That was part of the problem. Why did Obi-Wan have to make this so difficult? "You don't think I'm handsome?"

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin wondered if he was remembering how he'd told Qui-Gon that Anakin was dangerous and shouldn't be trained. Maybe Obi-Wan even regretted having taken Anakin as his apprentice now. Anakin knew he'd done it only because Qui-Gon had wanted him to, but he'd hoped Obi-Wan might start to like him on his own now.

"I didn't say that," said Obi-Wan, looking at Anakin's face. "I think you're... cute."

"Cute?" Anakin wrinkled his nose. "Only little kids are cute. I'm nearly a grown man."

"You're about as close to being a grown man as I am to being an old hermit."

"What's a hermit?"

"Someone who likes to be left alone."

"Well, aren't you one already?"

"Not quite. Hermits actually _are_ left alone."

Anakin crumpled a little. Did Obi-Wan hate him? "If you don't want me around, you should just say so," he said, turning away.

"You make an awful lot of assumptions for such a little boy," said Obi-Wan, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Not a little boy," said Anakin, pouting. He did, however, stop when Obi-Wan touched him. It was strange that Obi-Wan touched him so gently, especially since he'd seen Obi-Wan was strong enough to do one-handed push-ups before breakfast.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, as though to kiss Anakin, but blew on his neck again. "Saw a hair," he said, his face bland.

Anakin smiled. The tingling sensations were stronger when Obi-Wan blew on his neck without being asked. "Can I cut your braid now?" he asked.

Obi-Wan exhaled. He picked up the clippers and handed them to Anakin. He moved slowly, as though it hurt him. "Try not to scalp me." His tone was light, but it didn't sound like he meant it.

Sensing this was a solemn occasion, Anakin put on his best serious face and held the clippers up to the root of Obi-Wan's braid. Obi-Wan stared at him, wiping absently at his wet face. He had nice eyes, big and bright. Anakin remembered thinking Obi-Wan had a kind face when he'd met him. Obi-Wan hadn't been particularly nice or kind to Anakin, but Anakin still liked his face. He impulsively kissed Obi-Wan on the nose and then snipped his braid off.

Obi-Wan appeared so surprised by the gesture that he didn't notice his braid tumbling to the floor. "Why did you kiss me?" he asked after a moment.

Anakin shrugged his shoulders. "Because I wanted to." He wondered if Obi-Wan would be mad at him, but instead, he seemed perplexed. Anakin didn't understand Obi-Wan at all. He was such a strange man.

"You shouldn't do that." Obi-Wan had said the same thing when Anakin had tried to climb into his lap yesterday.

"Why not?" asked Anakin, hoping to get an answer this time. It was a stupid, little thing. His mother had liked kisses and hugs and him sitting on her lap. Why didn't Obi-Wan?

"I..." Obi-Wan was clearly trying to search for an answer. "Jedi don't do that."

"Jedi don't kiss ever?"

"No. Well, not normally."

Anakin frowned. "Then I don't want to be a normal Jedi."

"You're a funny little boy."

Padmé had said the same thing. Anakin shrugged. "Everybody else thinks so, too. But I'm not a little boy."

Obi-Wan rubbed his face, muttering something under his breath. Anakin didn't catch what he was saying until he heard Obi-Wan ask, "Was I ever that difficult as a child?"

"Maybe you were," answered Anakin, even though he knew the question wasn't directed at him. "If you don't like kisses and people sitting in your lap, then you were probably a mean little boy. Maybe you were a bully."

"A bully?" asked Obi-Wan, looking insulted. "I was a perfectly nice little boy. I just wasn't so... needy."

"I'm not needy," reasoned Anakin. "I just know what I like."

Clearly, someone was going to have to take charge of this relationship. Obi-Wan didn't understand his new job at all. Maybe he wasn't very smart. Anakin's mother had always taught him to be nice to people slower than he was. Not everyone picked things up so naturally. Anakin scooped up Obi-Wan's braid from the floor and climbed onto his lap. Obi-Wan didn't fight him this time, and Anakin settled back, pleased with himself. This might work after all.

Anakin held up the braid. "Can I keep this?"

That particular question made Obi-Wan look more lost than ever before. "If... you want."

"Good." Anakin made himself comfortable and nestled against Obi-Wan's chest. The aftershave had worn off, and Obi-Wan smelled like any other sweaty man. It was still different than the smell of his mother, but Anakin decided he rather liked it. He also made a mental note to hide that bottle Panaka had given Obi-Wan. "See? This isn't so bad. If you hadn't been such a mean little boy, you'd have known that already."

Obi-Wan shifted underneath Anakin, glancing down at him. "I wasn't a -- never mind. It's fine, I suppose." He leaned back in his chair, staring out of the open window. A breeze finally wafted inside the room, making Obi-Wan sigh. He closed his eyes, tilting his face towards the wind. Even Anakin was grateful for the breath of fresh air.

Anakin twirled Obi-Wan's braid in his small fingers and watched his new Master. Obi-Wan looked peaceful at that moment, and his face was completely dry. He didn't leak any tears for the rest of the day, or even the next day.

In fact, Anakin never saw tears streaming down Obi-Wan's face again until Mustafar.

_End._


End file.
